


Duel Called Enmity

by sharnii



Category: Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Continuation, Drama, Enemies, Enemies to Friends, Epic Friendship, F/F, Female Friendship, Friends to Enemies, Friendship, Friendship is Magic, Friendship/Love, Gen, Other, Post-Anime, Post-Canon, Romantic Friendship, Shoujo-ai, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-09
Updated: 2009-06-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 16:34:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3141257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharnii/pseuds/sharnii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Utena is understandably bitter about Ohtori Academy, and not in the least happy to meet up with Anthy in the real world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duel Called Enmity

_Enmity_

-noun, plural -ties

a feeling or condition of hostility; hatred; ill will; animosity; antagonism.

* * *

 

She’s bitter.

 

She takes her coffee bitter, and she thinks about how much she hates her life: her minimum wage job (because she didn’t finish high school), her minimum excitement routine.

 

It hasn’t been that long really since she’s felt this way, which is something like feeling a black hole sucking away your insides. Before (when she was stupid) she didn’t even know that people could feel like this. Everything was always sunlit then, set aglow with the nobility of the prince she dreamed of. Everyone was good (somewhere deep inside); everyone wanted to be saved.

 

She knows better now.

 

Here in the real world she has lost her nobility. That then is reality. That’s what everyone was trying to tell her all along: Juri by the fountain, Nanami in the bedroom, even Akio at the end of her world.

 

Utena picks up the jug of coffee and serves the latest customer. It hasn’t been that long really…somehow she’s not surprised to recognize everything about this woman. Only an idiot would imagine that Himemiya Anthy wouldn’t come. And Utena isn’t an idiot (now).

 

“Utena,” murmurs Anthy and her voice (usually so steady) trembles with emotion.

 

Utena drinks in everything about Anthy greedily. Her hair is down, her outfit is new and pink and probably something she picked out herself (how quaint). Anthy looks at her pleadingly, excitedly, desperately. ChuChu is jumping up and down on the center of the table, begging Utena to pick him up. She does not.

 

“Himemiya,” she says instead, coldly, steadily.

 

Anthy blinks once. Twice. She looks confused, understanding, accepting. Tears tremble on her lashes but she blinks again, blinking them away.

 

“I’ve found you,” she says, and there is some new tone to her voice that Utena can’t pinpoint. So she merely shrugs. They both watch as Utena pours coffee into Anthy’s cup.

 

“How do you like it?” she asks.

 

Anthy blinks again. Utena wonders if she has no preference…decides this is likely. A lifetime of suppressing desire can do that to a person.

 

“I like it bitter,” she offers to Anthy, and she actually laughs a little, and turns away.

 

“Wait!” cries Anthy, and force of habit turns Utena back around.

 

“Yeah?” she says, knowing exactly what Anthy wants. Anthy wants her. She wouldn’t have come all this way if she didn’t…vaguely Utena realizes Anthy must be free and that maybe she should be happy about that. Strange, she doesn’t feel happy.

 

Anthy is staring at her, looking deep…forcibly holding their eyes together. Apparently she doesn’t care that this is rude (which is like her), and doesn’t care that Utena wants to go (which isn’t). Finally she glances down at the unsweetened coffee with a sigh.

 

“I see,” she says quietly. “You’ve changed.”

 

“Yeah,” admits Utena, since it doesn’t hurt to face up to it. After all it’s not like she has any power to change it or anything else. They are all powerless here.

 

“Do you hate me?” asks Anthy suddenly, levelly. Utena thinks about it.

 

“Uh, kinda, I don’t really know. I guess I don’t really care.”

 

“I’d rather you hated me,” says Anthy. It’s Utena’s turn to blink. Then she laughs again.

 

“Yeah, I suppose you would.”

 

“If you don’t care,” says Anthy, quickly and cleverly as Utena is turning away yet again, “then maybe I could come stay with you.”

 

“What?” Utena’s voice is sharply disbelieving.

 

“I have money,” says Anthy and her knowing eyes tell Utena that she’s aware Utena doesn’t. “And I can clean. Keep house for you…I’m experienced.”

 

Utena stares at her. Anthy is just the same: mysterious and damn annoying. It would be insane to live with her (again). Anthy has her own motives, and always did have. She’s a witch (said Akio) and who knows what she might do to Utena in her sleep. ChuChu is peeping agitatedly now, jumping ever higher. She tries to keep ignoring him.

 

“Alright,” she says, and turns away again, this time escaping successfully.

 

 _Idiot!_ roars her inner voice. She rubs furiously at the back of her neck as she waits for the chef to dish up her orders.

 

It may have been the second most stupid thing she ever did. At the same time she hates her minimum wage job and her minimum excitement routine. Anthy has money, Anthy has odd happenings (by half), and besides Utena’s lonely. Maybe she hates her…it doesn’t bear thinking about too hard, but…Anthy is magic.

 

“Even if she finishes what she started,” Utena mutters to herself, “it’s better than this.”

The dishes are ready: they look like pig slop. Hey, maybe Anthy has enough money that Utena won’t have to work at all…maybe she can study, or have a career, or play a social sport. Having options would be better than this. Anything would be better.

 

The waitress finishes up her shift without looking at that particular table. As she gets her coat she senses someone by her side and tenses up. It’s only Anthy (of course), smiling at her sadly. Utena just rolls her eyes. Time was when she would have given her coat to the smaller girl, but that was a fairytale time. This is the real world.

 

She strides outside into the snow, briskly walking the few streets to her dingy apartment. Anthy is almost running behind, trying to keep up while ChuChu chirps encouragement from where’s he’s enthroned on her pink hat. Utena doesn’t look back.

 

* * *

 

At home Utena pours herself bitter coffee and stares morosely at her shivering guest. The former rose bride helps herself to Utena’s trenchcoat off the coat-hook…she must realize she’ll get no help from her former fiancé.

 

“You look silly,” says Utena, tired of hearing the silence in her apartment. The coat’s much too big for Anthy: she’s drowning in it.

 

“Do you want some tea?” asks Anthy politely; Utena shakes her head.

 

“I don’t drink tea.”

 

Anthy makes tea anyway, and serves herself and ChuChu. Sitting across from Utena she acts like everything is perfectly normal. _She’s good at pretending_ , thinks Utena. _Better than me_. She yawns then, exhausted from her too-long shift as always.

 

“I’m going to bed,” she mumbles, and she does, once again not looking back. She is half-asleep under the covers when Anthy slides in beside her.

 

“I’ve got a couch,” she grumbles, turning over. “Go sleep there.”

 

“Yes, Utena-sama,” says Anthy demurely. Utena winces from force of habit. It takes her a second to realize Anthy isn’t moving.

 

“Do you want me to throw you out?” she wonders aloud, feeling less sleepy and more irritated.

 

“I can’t sleep without you,” says Anthy, as though this is an entirely natural statement to make. Utena’s eyes goggle. She actually turns over to glare at her bed-partner.

 

“What?! Like hell!”

 

“I won’t touch you,” says Anthy calmly, as though she thinks this is what Utena fears. Utena curses. Anthy remains calm. Utena thinks about pushing Anthy out of bed, thinks about it so long that her eyes grow heavy with sleep. Anthy has already closed her eyes and is resting peacefully on her back. Utena tiredly reasons that it would be unchivalrous to toss a girl out of bed, even a girl who isn’t really a girl.

 

It’s not that Utena is chivalrous or anything, or that she gives a damn. It’s just that she’s tired and Anthy is persistent. Grumbling to herself, Utena flips back over. She doesn’t want to look at memories from their past. Behind her back Anthy opens her eyes and stares grimly at the ceiling.

 

* * *

 

Utena wakes up to find Anthy lying in blood-red sheets, made so by sopping up the blood pooling from the rose bride’s sword-skewered body. She screams. And wakes up.

 

Anthy is sitting up in bed with a sword…the sword. Meticulously she sharpens it with a whetstone, over and over. The sound skids down Utena’s spine and she sits up, screaming. And wakes up.

 

Utena is in bed with Anthy wrapped around her on one side, and Akio on the over. “My prince,” whispers Anthy, nibbling on one ear. “My princess,” whispers Akio, nibbling on the other. Utena’s back arches with pleasure: she screams. And wakes up.

 

Sweat liberally coats her skin; the bedcovers are a mess. Anthy is nowhere to be seen. Utena stumbles out of bed holding one hand to her aching head. Nightmares…so many nightmares, was it all a dream? She runs out of the bedroom and skids to a halt, staring at Anthy who is carving determinedly at an iceblock.

 

She stands there, hand pressed to heart as she catches her breath, eyeing Anthy’s ice-saw nervously.

 

“I heard screaming,” says Anthy not looking up.

 

“Did you?” says Utena, fighting to sound dismissive. “Y’know…I don’t actually like shaved ice.”

 

“I know,” says Anthy. It might be Utena’s imagination but that bent head seems to be smiling. Suddenly Anthy looks up, and Utena sees she was wrong: there is no smile. Instead Anthy looks like she might cry…Utena stares in fascination at her trembling bottom lip.

 

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” pleads Anthy like a lost little girl. “Oh Utena…”

 

“Stop it,” says Utena and her voice is harsh for all that it catches in her throat. “It does. Or it won’t be at all. Understand?”

 

After a long moment Anthy lowers her head again.

 

“What are we then?” she asks in a dead voice, the way that Utena particularly hates her sounding. Or did.

 

“We’re enemies,” says Utena, because it’s true in this world, and just maybe it was true in every world.

 

Anthy’s eyes snap up again so quickly that Utena gasps.

 

“Oh?” says Anthy something blazing in those arresting eyes. “I thought you didn’t care.” Utena actually flushes. She’s fully aware (now) of how it’s painfully obvious on her fair complexion.

 

“Well that would make us strangers,” she says defensively, “if I didn’t feel something.” She' almost doesn’t know what she was saying, she’s so flustered. “And we’re not really strangers.”

 

“No,” repeats Anthy, and she lays down the saw. “You don’t feel something for a stranger.” Her eyes flicker in the dim light of morning. “So…enemies then.”

 

“Yeah,” says Utena, as she searches for some distraction. “Is the shaved ice ready?”

 

* * *

 

Utena stops working, because she hates her job, and Anthy tells her they have enough money for her to do whatever she wants. Utena realizes she doesn’t want anything anymore, but in the real world everyone has to do something. It’s how it is. So she enrolls at the local college to makeup highschool.

 

Anthy enrolls too, without explaining why she might need to when Utena’s quite certain the rose bride has done highschool a hundred times over. They sit next to each other in classes without passing notes, or sly glances at the teachers’ expense. They have lunch together in the quad, while Utena stares into the distance and Anthy stares at Utena. When Utena joins the basketball team Anthy sits in the bleachers to watch practice. When Utena asks her why (testily), Anthy claims she doesn’t have anything better to do. Utena supposes this is actually true. It would be nice if Anthy got a life.

 

At home Anthy cleans (well), cooks (badly), and watches horribly inappropriate game shows on television. Utena washes up (so as not to feel guilty), often orders takeaway, and watches the game shows while cringing.

 

Sometimes Utena does exercises, or lifts hand-weights. Sometimes Anthy arranges flowers, or changes the channel to the home shopping network. She never seems to buy anything, only coos over this or that bargain. Utena rolls her eyes but ChuChu makes little Chus of apparent agreement.

 

After about a month Utena finds a family of mice living in her sock draw. She screams like a girl and flees into the living area, where she finds Anthy unsuccessfully trying to suppress giggles behind her hand. Utena doesn’t know what to do: Anthy doesn’t laugh at her expense. Or she didn’t.

 

But Utena leaves the family of mice their new home, although she rolls her eyes each time Anthy feeds them dinner crumbs. She buys new socks and stuffs them into her already full underwear draw.

 

A second month passes. Utena thinks that this routine isn’t anywhere as exciting as one might suppose living with Anthy could be. At the same time she feels calmer. She begins to root for contestants in the game shows (always the ones Anthy isn’t going for), and curses up a blue streak each time Anthy’s contestants win (which is always). She decides the flowers aren’t so bad, as long as they aren’t roses. Anthy’s cooking doesn’t seem as dire, although maybe Utena’s just getting used to it again.

 

Every night Anthy slides into bed, Utena grumpily protests, Anthy agrees to leave, and ends up staying instead. One night Utena lies awake for the longest time, listening to Anthy’s breathing smooth and slow. Only when’s she’s certain Anthy’s asleep does she turn over to stare at her companion.

 

Moonlight floods in the nearby window, making Anthy seem like a particularly perfect statue. Utena looks at her pert nose, her slightly parted lips, her masses of night-colored hair. She thinks about how it felt to sleep in adjoining beds, connected by sweetly clinging hands. She thinks about the bunk they shared before that, and the security of knowing her newfound friend was close. She thinks about the couch where Anthy must have slept also, and the night she found her there.

 

The pain begins deep in her belly, a gnawing swell of horror. To think…to think that Anthy…that she had done…been forced to do…those things with her brother (unless…she had liked it? Oh…). To think that Utena had slept in the next room, ignorant. To think how Anthy had looked…how much older (so old), and naked (so bare) and all that hair, and those eyes, stripped of all their secrets…

 

Utena stifles a sob. It hurts just to be lying there, beside someone who had sent her to that very brother (with the pretense of flowers)…oh Utena has had plenty of time to puzzle out the mysteries of Ohtori Academy. Plenty of time to fit criminal (or is it victim?) to crime.

 

It hurts to be lying here beside someone whom she hadn’t tried to save in the moment when they needed her the most. What did that say about her?! She had thought she was a prince… (If indeed Anthy had needed her…how could she know…she couldn’t know…)

 

It hurts to be lying here beside someone who’d been forced to lie beneath another, forced to leave childhood behind. Forced again and again. Betrayed by the one she saved.

 

Utena curls up and clutches her belly and hesitates over that thought: _Betrayed by the one she saved._

 

Everything had happened before. Everything would happen again. Even in Ohtori the real world kept breaking through with rules and damnation.

 

_To revolutionize the world…_

 

Impossible. Nobody could do it. Maybe a prince could have…but no prince existed. Probably no prince ever had.

 

_I wanted to be a prince…_

 

But she had been a fool instead. A selfish self-righteous puppet. That much was clear.

 

_Himemiya wanted to save her brother, the prince…_

 

But she had been a witch instead. A selfish self-defeating puppet-master. Oh…

 

Groaning, Utena pushes herself up and sprawls against the headboard. Her stomach aches fiercely. Her head is pounding with thought and realization. It always did take her a long time to work things out…

 

“Utena?” asks a soft voice, and now Anthy is sitting up too, peering at her in concern. “What is it?”

 

“Stomach,” grunts Utena, because the pain is really quite unbearable, and she might need Anthy to call the emergency room. It’s bad enough that she puts up with it when Anthy runs a cool hand down her burning cheek, and rests it against her clammy forehead.

 

It’s been a long time since they touched. An eternity.

 

Carefully Anthy rests the hand against Utena’s belly.

 

“Here?” she asks. Her eyes are luminescent in the shadows.

 

“Yeah,” groans Utena, clenching her own eyes shut in pain. She is unbearably aware of Anthy even through her discomfit, attentive to those hands that are now slowly lifting her pajama shirt.

 

Anthy only lifts it a little before she stops and gasps. Dazedly Utena blinks her stinging eyes open, staring down at Anthy’s fingers which are tracing an old scar. The scar. She whimpers. It hurts. It tickles. It feels like Anthy is drawing a line of fire, a line of magic.

 

“Stop it,” she hisses through clenched teeth. Anthy’s hand stops but stays where it is. Utena’s shirt slips back down to hide it and the scar. Maybe that’s why Utena doesn’t push Anthy away (yet)…she feels relieved to not see the puzzle pieces, even if she still feels them.

 

“Is it bad?” Anthy asks, looking at the bulge of her hand beneath Utena’s shirt.

 

“Tonight,” admits Utena, but it isn’t the truth. She can’t even look at herself naked in the mirror anymore; the memory is raw and bloody.

 

They sit there for long moments, silent together. Utena’s eyes begin to drift shut, the pain is fading and she is very tired. Vaguely she wonders why Anthy doesn’t say sorry like any regular person would. Then she envisions her own likely reaction and chuckles a little. Sorry would mean nothing, even less than nothing. It would make her angry (murderously so); it would be like lifting up her shirt again to look at Anthy’s hand.

 

Probably Anthy knows this. Probably she has a sense of self-preservation (unlike Utena), which is quite a lot like any regular person would. Maybe Anthy is changing after all.

 

Maybe Anthy’s hand is beginning to move a little under the shirt, stroking tenderly along the scar tissue. Utena doesn’t really know. She falls asleep.

 

* * *

 

The next day they are awkward around each other, avoiding eyes and giving double the personal space. Utena decides to go for a morning run (it is the weekend), and she runs so far (much farther than usual), and without paying the least attention. She ends up lost, and staggers into an unfamiliar café.

 

It’s long past breakfast time, approaching lunch, and after drinking half a jug of water Utena decides to order coffee and a sandwich.

 

“How do you like your coffee, dear?” asks the matronly waitress. Utena thinks that maybe her mother would have been like this (if she had lived), and feels sentimental about mothers. She hasn’t thought about family in a long time.

 

“Uh, maybe one sugar,” she says without thinking, “oh and milk. Do you have any cream?”

 

Seconds later she stares down at the finished product in surprise, then sips it anyway. It tastes good, much better than coffee done bitter. Slowly she pushes it away, feeling confused.

 

_I thought I liked it bitter…_

 

She hitches a ride back home with some trucker with long red hair. It isn’t Touga: this guy has freckles like any self-respecting redhead should. It’s the real world after all. But his hair reminds her of Touga (naturally) and she thinks about how she wished he was her prince, and how he was more like the prince’s understudy but without a proper prince to study from.

 

She wonders if he kept his promise.

 

That leads to thoughts of Juri and Miki, and that squash game where they had all laughed while gazing up into a limitless blue sky. Where are they now? Has Juri put Utena’s picture in her locket like she had joked (had it been a joke?). Is Juri even now sighing over it? And Miki, is he happy without the rose bride to pine after? Who does he tell his re-occuring story of the sunlit garden to? Utena always made excuses to leave when he started up: but Anthy just played piano at his side nodding calmly.

 

Utena wonders about that. Is Anthy always calm? Had Anthy even been listening to Miki? Can Anthy play anything and everything that needs to be played? Can she play basketball with Utena…heck, better than Utena if she had a reason to? A dark and dire reason?

 

The suspicion leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. But not as bad a taste as it might have, only months ago.

 

When she gets home she enters quietly, desperately curious as to what Anthy on her own might be doing.

 

Anthy is watching a horribly inappropriate game show, giggling as the contestants are smothered in hot oil. Utena grimaces, but somehow is relieved. It seems that Anthy really does like game shows.

 

* * *

 

The days blend. They have been living together almost six months now, and do their daily routines around each other just like dancers. It is natural for Utena to wake and stumble out to brush her teeth, just as Anthy exits from the bathroom, fully dressed and inhumanely cheerful.

 

It is natural for Utena to yawn in class, and stare out the window at a distant soccer team during mathematics, and just as normal for Anthy to move her book to exactly the right angle from which Utena can crib the answers. At Ohtori Academy Utena would never have cheated, but she has no qualms now. It seems Anthy never did.

 

It is natural for Utena to bolt down her lunch, cramming noodles into her mouth like she’s starving. She wants to finish early and play sport. It’s natural for Anthy to grimace in disapproval, and even to make annoying tut tutting noises which Utena ignores. At Ohtori Academy Anthy would never have expressed disproval, or even an opinion. She seems to have no qualms now. Utena kind of likes it.

 

* * *

 

Utena calls Anthy her housemate when introducing her, because that’s what they are no matter what else they may or might not be. Anthy just smiles blankly at the person she’s meeting until they shiver and look away. Anthy has yet to introduce Utena to anyone.

 

Once Utena thought that someone (some stranger in the street) called out Anthy’s name but Anthy hurried into a nearby alleyway. Utena followed her, all the while craning her neck to look back, but nobody followed them. Anthy claimed it was a shortcut to their destination but they were half an hour late. Maybe it’s true that Anthy doesn’t have any friends, except for ChuChu that is. Utena wonders why, then catches herself. She already knows why.

 

* * *

 

One evening the doorbell rings, and Anthy goes to open it while Utena continues to do situps. When the door swings open to reveal one Arisugawa Juri, Utena stops mid-exercise, jaw dropping in surprise.

 

“Hello, Utena-kun,” greets Juri smoothly before handing Anthy her fashionable coat. Her eyes narrow. “It’s you,” she says staring at the former rose bride, voice cold and clipped. When she glances back at Utena there is disappointment on her face.

 

“You live with her?” she clarifies. Then she sighs and pushes masses of orange ringlets back off her face. “Of course. You live with her.”

 

_She has money._

 

It’s the first excuse that pops into Utena’s head, but she catches herself just in time. She can hardly say that…what would Juri think of her?

 

“Would you like some tea?” asks Anthy, and her voice is a shade of sickly-sweet that Utena almost doesn’t remember. Almost.

 

“That would be like old times,” says Juri in a tone that would be more fitting for: _That would be like poison._

 

Utena flushes, this is kind of embarrassing. She decides she doesn’t like subtext (not that she would have even picked up on it before), she likes open animosity. She knows both these women enough though (now) to realize she’s not going to get that tonight.

 

They all kneel at the low table, and Anthy passes around cookies. Utena takes one automatically and then stares at it like she’s never seen a cookie before. This is the first time Anthy’s served them…the first time since…that other time. Utena lays the cookie down beside her plate, untouched. She isn’t hungry.

 

“It tastes so good,” says Juri politely.

 

“Thank you,” says Anthy, even more politely.

 

“Did you make it yourself?” asks Juri.

 

“Of course,” says Anthy.

 

“Really?” says Juri. “That’s…miraculous.”

 

“Yes,” says Anthy. And then, “won’t you have one, Utena-sama?”

 

Utena’s eyes snap to Anthy’s, then to Juri’s, then to the table which she stares at in growing embarrassment.

 

“No,” she mutters.

 

“Why not?” asks Juri.

 

Utena shrugs, not wanting to answer. She doesn’t want to answer so badly that she takes up her teacup as a pretence, and sips from it. Anthy’s tea is hot and sweet and faintly herbal, sluicing over her tongue. Utena’s eyes widen as she realizes what she’s done, and she hurriedly sets the tea back down.

 

“It’s got a strange flavor,” she says wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

 

_I don’t drink tea._

 

“Very strange,” agrees Juri.

 

“Yes,” agrees Anthy. “I wonder what it’s like.”

 

“It’s a little too bitter,” decides Juri. “What do you think, Utena-kun?”

 

“It’s too sweet,” says Utena automatically, before she catches herself again. “I mean, it’s…it’s…did you have to travel far, Juri-senpai?”

 

Apparently Juri did. Apparently she’s been looking for Utena for a long time. Utena blushes to hear of it, and Anthy looks blanker than usual. When Juri finally goes (after inviting Utena out to dinner) they go about their bedtime routine. Normally they might say a few trivial things of no great consequence. Tonight they are silent.

 

Utena gets into bed and hides under the covers. She is thinking about how powerful Juri’s presence can be. Anthy slips into bed beside her. Then one nimble hand reaches across and pulls down Utena’s covers. Utena gapes at her in silent accusation.

 

“What?!” she spits out when it become apparent Anthy isn’t going to say anything.

 

“Are you friends with Arisugawa-senpai?” Anthy wants to know. Utena blinks.

 

“Er, I guess. I…uh…we’re not close or anything. But well, we did share…something together at Ohtori. And we could be friends. I think we could be friends.”

 

“She doesn’t like me,” says Anthy, and Utena almost shrugs; that much is obvious.

 

“Do you like her?” she retorts.

 

“No,” says Anthy, utterly unashamed. “I don’t like people much.”

 

“Oh,” says Utena, scratching her cheek. She kind of already knew that, but she never thought Anthy would come out and say it. “Er…why not?”

 

“They all so selfishly want to be saved,” says Anthy, “all of them, and all the time. They hate me, they yell at me, they want their prince instead.” Her eyes go unfocused and Utena leans in almost unconsciously to whisper:

 

“They hate you?”

 

“A million swords of hatred,” says Anthy, gazing back at her would-be savior. “You know what that’s like.”

 

“Yes,” mutters Utena closing her eyes against the memory. “It’s like…knowing the truth about the real world.”

 

“Yes,” agrees Anthy.

 

Sleep is a long time coming.

 

* * *

 

Utena dreams that she wakes up (but she’s dreaming) in a garden, a veritable paradise of fruit trees and rosebushes. As she walks in the cool of the day she comes across a clearing, and a tree: heavy-laden with blood-red fruit. Utena doesn’t recognize it, but is fascinated by the enticing smell wafting through the air. It smells like promises. It smells like miracles. She feels compelled to pick it, and taste it, and lick its juice from her lips.

 

So she steps into the clearing.

 

Suddenly she realizes she is not alone: Akio and Anthy are there, as naked as those single times she saw each of them naked (horrifying exciting times). They look young, and happy, and Anthy is offering a piece of the delectable fruit to her big brother.

 

“I don’t think you should do that,” says Utena, and she doesn’t know why she says it.

 

Anthy laughs up into Akio’s smiling eyes.

 

“But it’s delicious!” There is warmth in her voice, in the way she stands so close to him. It is very strange to Utena, very unlike the Anthy she has come to know.

 

“I don’t mind becoming like god,” says Akio, and his smirk is playful. “Knowing the difference between right and wrong…so I can blur the lines…”

 

“You’ll ruin everything,” says Utena, with a kind of cold finality.

 

“It was already ruined,” says Anthy, suddenly much older. And then she is gliding toward Utena in all her masses of hair and naked glory, and Utena is staring at her in mingled horror and fascination. “We just didn’t know it was ruined,” explains Anthy, holding out the blood-red fruit to the dreamer. “Eat this, so you’ll see too.”

 

Utena looks at the fruit, at Anthy’s delicate fingers on the fruit, and at all the beauty around that is about to disappear forever.

 

“For you,” she says, and she leans forward and takes a bite.

 

* * *

 

Utena goes to dinner with Juri and has a pretty good time. When she gets home the house is dark and empty-seeming.

 

“Himemiya?” she calls, fumbling around for the light switch. She flicks it on and gasps. Anthy is sitting on a chair in the middle of the room. Staring at nothing.

 

“What are you doing?” she asks, sharply because she is a little afraid.

 

“Sitting,” says Anthy, at her most obtuse. Utena grimaces, and decides to ignore her. She walks past the chair, then hesitates, then asks:

 

“Coffee?” She doesn’t know why she asks. A pause behind her. Then very quietly:

 

“Please.” Utena thinks Anthy’s voice is a little shaky. It’s too quiet to be sure; has Anthy been crying? She hates it when Anthy cries. Or she used to.

 

When they are kneeling at the low table ten minutes later, she surreptitiously checks Anthy’s cheeks for tear-stains but sees none.

 

“Sugar?” she offers.

 

“I’ve never had coffee,” says Anthy, and her voice sounds normal now. “Should I have sugar?”

 

“I don’t know,” says Utena vaguely annoyed at Anthy’s lack of opinion. “You need to try it and see what you like.”

 

Delicately Anthy sips. Utena watches her, thinking that this is reminiscent of all those times they had tea together at Ohtori. Times when Utena was happy, happier than she’d ever been…isn’t that what she had said?

 

Anthy inclines her head and Utena passes over the sugar pot. One teaspoon later Anthy purses her lips and sets the cup down.

 

“It’s better without.”

 

“More real,” says Utena without thinking, and they stare at each other for a charged moment. To cover her confusion Utena slurps her own coffee too fast, and burns her tongue.

 

“You said you were happy,” says Anthy out of the blue, and suddenly Utena fears that witches really can read minds. “Happier when we were together than you had ever been. When you opened the gate.”

 

“Er yes…” says Utena, flushing furiously. “I guess I did…”

 

“And now?” asks Anthy, but as though she’s asking a triviality, a question about the weather. Yet there is a tension in her shoulders and in the air between them. Utena licks her lips nervously.

 

“I uh…that is I…” She trails off.

 

“Are you sad?” asks Anthy. Boldly she reaches across the table and gathers up Utena’s sword hand. They both stare at it, at the pale band of skin where the ring was worn. Utena’s hand trembles within Anthy’s against her will.

 

“It’s the real world,” Utena says, which is answer enough. Making an effort not to pull away, she summons her courage, lifts her head and looks into Anthy’s searching gaze.

 

“You’ve opened your eyes,” agrees Anthy. She lays Utena’s hand down on the table and covers it with her own.

 

“The swords showed me a lot of things,” admits Utena, stumbling over her words as she is distracted by the long-lost familiarity. “They h…hurt me, changed me.”

 

“I told you to run,” says Anthy, and her voice is no longer so calm. “You should have run.”

 

“Maybe,” says Utena, looking down again at their joined hands. Their fingers are now entwined.

 

“I’m glad you didn’t,” says Anthy, “if only because I got to meet you.”

 

“Oh,” says Utena, blinking suddenly stinging eyes at the memory. Anthy asleep in her coffin, opening her eyes in utter disbelief.

 

_Take my hand!_

 

“Too cruel,” she mutters, thinking about what the prince had showed her all those years ago. A little girl ripped apart by sacrifice. “It was too cruel.”

 

“Yes,” says Anthy, and her voice is filled with sudden anguish as she stares at Utena. “It’s too cruel.” They finish their coffee in silence. Anthy doesn’t move her hand and Utena doesn’t try to pull away.

 

* * *

 

They’ve lived together for a year when Anthy suggests they move. Utena is amenable, mostly because she hates the dingy apartment where they live now. She lets Anthy make the arrangements (it’s her money, and besides house shopping is boring), and is unsurprised when they end up living in a rustic cottage, with more garden than actual house.

 

Their weekend activities re-shuffle. Utena takes up tanning on the lawn, and Anthy starts to grow rosebushes. Utena thinks this choice is in bad taste, but puts up with it: She supposes you can’t take the roses out of the rose bride. Their heady scent fills her with conflicted feelings, both good and bad. Half the time she is sun-lounging in a daze, drifting through memories long avoided.

 

Juri visits often. During these visits Anthy reverts to something much more like her former self. She and Juri are politely venomous to each other. Utena is glad to see Juri (they have become rather good friends) but doesn’t like how quiet Anthy is when she goes. But she doesn’t know quite what to do about it.

 

Touga visits twice and each time works on seducing Utena. On the second visit he tries to kiss her and there is a crash from the kitchen. With her gasp and his curse they leap apart, and Utena flees to the kitchen to see what happened. Anthy is kneeling in the remains of a tea cup, picking delicately at the china.

 

“Are you alright?” asks Utena, thinking that this is the first time Anthy’s broken anything. Well, except for the time she broke her brother’s teacup…

 

“Yes,” says Anthy, “but I’m afraid we only have two cups now.”

 

Utena rolls her eyes and goes back out to Touga. His visits are exciting, but she can’t bring herself to trust him. Each time she spurns his advances he grows more amorous. She no longer thinks of him as a prince.

 

* * *

 

When Wakaba finally comes Utena actually smiles.

 

“Utena-sama!” cries Wakaba jokingly, and goes to leap on her best friend’s back.

 

Utena keeps smiling but neatly sidesteps.

 

“Hi Wakaba.”

 

“Where have you been?” shrills Wakaba, hands waving wildly from the floor for Utena to help her back up. “When I finally remembered you I knew I had to see you! And wasn’t that strange, don’t you think, that amnesia bug that so many students seemed to get? Really strange.” Anthy comes into the room bearing a tea tray and Wakaba sniffs.

 

“Really really strange.”

 

“I’ve been around,” says Utena vaguely, and they make chit chat, and Wakaba catches them up on her life. It is nice. Normal. There is nothing hidden about Wakaba, and Utena finds the visit relaxing. Now and then she catches herself scrutinizing her friend’s open face, thinking back to the time they dueled. Wakaba had poured out her hidden heart then…revealed pain that Utena had never even guessed at…it wasn’t still there, was it?

 

Wakaba was exactly what she seemed, wasn’t she?

 

“Are you alright?” asks Wakaba when she’s at the door. “You seem different, Utena-chan. You seem…sad.”

 

“I do?” says Utena, surprised because she doesn’t feel as bad as she did. “I’m alright. Don’t worry about me.”

 

“Okay!” says Wakaba, cheerfulness restored instantly. “See you soon!”

 

The door closes, and Utena leans against it, watching as Anthy gathers up the teaset.

 

“I’m not sad,” she says. Anthy looks up and Utena attempts a weak smile. It feels a little foreign after all this time. Anthy stares. Then she smiles back brilliantly.

 

“I’m not happy either,” Utena hurries to say.

 

“Well at least you’re not about to jump off a balcony,” Anthy deadpans. Utena’s jaw drops. A faintly smirking Anthy takes the tea-set to the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

When Utena gains her highschool equivalency she applies and gets into college on a basketball scholarship. She is pleased with herself, proud of her achievement. Anthy bakes her a strange-tasting cake and they celebrate outside in the pergola, Utena managing to eat several slices by slathering on icing, and slurping down coffee.

 

The cake really isn’t that bad.

 

“Maybe you should do a home economics course,” she tells Anthy, only half joking.

 

“What have you chosen?” asks Anthy.

 

“Arts,” reveals Utena, “with a major in Film and Media. Because it seems easy.”

 

“So you’re at college for the basketball,” ascertains Anthy with that faint smirk that always gets Utena’s back up.

 

“Yeah,” she mutters, “I am. So what?”

 

“So maybe I’ll do an Arts degree too.”

 

“What?!”

 

“I’ve got nothing better to do. And I want to be with you.”

 

There. It is out between them (again), said as plainly as younger Utena could have hoped for. Anthy is being direct, so direct that Utena is blushing, all awash with conflicted emotions.

 

“Oh,” she says, wiping away cake crumbs and avoiding Anthy’s steady gaze.

 

“You know that already,” says Anthy gently, and Utena dares a glance up.

 

“Well…yeah. Otherwise…why would you be here?”

 

“You found me,” says Anthy. “I came to find you.”

 

“Say what?” asks Utena, suddenly angry. “Are you saying there’s something wrong with me?” Then she re-runs Anthy’s statement through her head and her heart thuds painfully.

 

“What? I found you?”

 

“Yes,” says Anthy, “you know this.”

 

“Whatever,” growls Utena, feeling her cheeks heat. “It’s more about what I found, y’know. It’s more about what I realized.”

 

“What did you realize?” asks Anthy and the way she gazes at Utena from across the pergola is exactly the way she did when Utena ripped up the letter from World’s End.

 

“That it was all a lie!” hisses Utena, unable to keep the venom out of her voice. “You played me! You stabbed me! You LET ME GO!”

 

Her final accusation hangs in the charged air between them, while Utena tries to control her breathing and Anthy looks statue-like. Utena can almost see the ripped-up letter pieces swirling between them, and she bites her lip to stop from crying.

 

A long silence. Then:

 

“Yes,” admits Anthy. “I played you. I stabbed you. And I let you go.”

 

“R…really?” asks Utena, “your hand didn’t just slip?”

 

“Would it change anything?” asks Anthy.

 

Utena chews on her lip uncertainly.

 

“Would you believe me?” asks Anthy.

 

“I don’t know,” Utena says finally, too used to telling the truth to start lying now. “So…have you found what you’re looking for?”

 

She fully expects Anthy to say no. To start crying, or to get up and leave, just walk out of their new life. She knows this isn’t what Anthy must have wanted when she left Ohtori, and her beloved brother. She knows she isn’t the same Utena who made the promise of tea and cookies and always being Anthy’s friend. She is her enemy, and just another in a long line of enemies at that. (What a lonely eternity, to be the hated witch…)

 

“Yes,” says Anthy, calmly sipping her coffee.

 

Utena goggles.

 

“I’m very patient,” says Anthy. “I’ve already waited forever.”

 

Utena gets up and walks away. Her heart is overflowing with pain, and happiness, and rage, and despair, and too many things to be able to do anything but get some space. She doesn’t know how she feels about what Anthy just promised.

 

But she feels.

 

* * *

 

They attend college, sitting together through long and boring lectures in which Utena’s eyes glaze over, and Anthy reads novels. Apparently she has perfected the skill of positioning her glasses to catch the glare of the light: it looks like she’s paying meticulous attention while her eyes are actually on the book on her lap. Utena doesn’t even bother to look interested; she often rests her head on her desk and watches Anthy.

 

One day she snatches up Anthy’s book at the class’s finish and stares at the cover of a trashy romance novel.

 

“The Hell-King’s Love Slave,” she reads aloud in disbelief. “This is what you’re reading?!”

 

Anthy shrugs.

 

“The lecture’s boring.”

 

“I know,” says Utena, “but…this is what you’re reading?”

 

“I’m frustrated.”

 

Utena feels like slapping her. Or pushing her down. Or putting her fingers to those soft lips to stop the horribly inappropriate things from coming out. It takes all her self-control to return the book, doing none of those things.

 

Anthy smiles at her.

 

“Would you like to read it?”

 

Utena’s hand twitches.

 

* * *

 

College basketball is a lot more demanding than high school level, and Utena has training several times a week, and games both at home and away. She enjoys it, pushing her fitness to peak level, pushing her game to surpass itself again and again. It calls to something inside her, something that is restless and willful and longing for expression.

 

Anthy is the team’s staunchest supporter, showing up at every practice and every game without fail. She manages this by becoming the coach’s personal assistant, a feat that Utena has no idea how she accomplished. None of the other coach’s have personal assistants, but Utena’s coach actually pays Anthy for the service. He also seems a little scared of her.

 

Once Utena would have been annoyed to have Anthy so ever-present, but now it has become a given. Anthy is like a tooth that is a little loose, something painfully pleasurable to niggle at, over and over. Anthy is always there.

 

They’re driving back from practice (in Anthy’s new purple sports car…she drives, and even has a license) with Utena attempting to do warmdown stretches in the limited space of the passenger side.

 

“You’re getting better,” says Anthy and Utena flushes with pleasure, and pauses with her elbow pointed above her shoulder in a tricep stretch.

 

“You can tell?” she asks, faintly surprised that Anthy knows anything about sport. Even if she is PA to the coach…

 

“Of course,” says Anthy. “You’re strong and fast, and your will is…astounding.” Utena has the funny feeling that they are not talking about basketball anymore.

 

“Oh yeah,” she says, “well uh, thanks.” She releases the stretch and turns curiously toward her housemate. “So any room for improvement that you see?” Anthy’s lips curve up in a small smile.

 

“You’re asleep on the court.”

 

“Huh?” says Utena, feeling that isn’t really fair. “I pay attention.”

 

“Not like you could,” says Anthy. Her unspoken words say: _Not like you did._ Utena wonders how it became so familiar between them that she can even guess at what Anthy is thinking.

 

“You don’t know anything about basketball,” she snaps, because her feelings are a little hurt, and because Anthy’s pushing too hard.

 

“No,” says Anthy and suddenly her voice is sad. “Only what I’ve seen. And even that…sometimes seems like such a long time ago.”

 

“It wasn’t that long,” says Utena, suddenly contrite. They pull into their driveway and Anthy turns so that their eyes meet.

 

“I think about it all the time,” she says. “I dream about it.”

 

“So do I,” admits Utena, voice trembling, so close to Anthy and yet so far away. They say nothing more, just sit there for a moment and then go inside. Utena is thinking about being asleep, and the time she found Anthy sleeping in her coffin.

 

_At last we meet!_

 

She didn’t think of Anthy as an enemy then.

 

* * *

 

Utena comes home from the grocery shop to find Anthy curled up in the window seat, reading a letter. Normally Anthy would be making dinner at this time…Utena greets her and notes that Anthy’s reply is distant. After putting away the groceries she goes out to find that nothing has changed; Anthy is still staring at the letter, apparently reading it over and over.

 

“What is it?” asks Utena, because she knows it is something.

 

“Akio-san,” says Anthy, not looking up. “He’s written to me.” Utena’s fist clenches.

 

“What does he want?”

 

“Nothing,” says Anthy, finally dragging her eyes up to Utena’s. “Just small talk.”

 

“Uhuh,” says Utena, and she watches helplessly as Anthy’s eyes drift back down to the letter. Dusk gathers around them as she stands there, watching Anthy devour her brother’s words.

 

Finally Utena goes to the kitchen and starts making dinner. Only when it’s ready does Anthy manage to tear herself away to come and eat. Later on she foregoes watching her tv program; Utena finds her curled up in bed with the cursed letter. She frowns and goes out to watch the gameshow by herself. At the end she doesn’t know who won.

 

* * *

 

It isn’t the only letter. Soon Anthy is getting one a week, and Utena suspects that if they had a phone (they don’t, at Anthy’s insistence) she’d be taking calls instead. Anthy starts to read the letters in the privacy of the pergola, no doubt noting Utena’s frosty reactions. Utena stands at the nearest window and spys on her. She simply can’t help herself.

 

One day Anthy writes back. It’s during their boring lecture: Utena glances over to see **Dear Akio-san,** scripted in Anthy’s tiny handwriting. The paper is pink and rose-scented; Anthy is chewing on her pen in concentration. Utena stares at the salutation and then at Anthy in disbelief. She grabs her notebook out of her backpack (for the first time all year) and scrawls in her own messy handwriting: **What are you doing??????** The pen cuts deeply into the paper with the force of her strokes.

 

Anthy glances over, and then uses Utena’s book to write her neat reply. **Writing to my brother.**

 

Utena scowls and hesitates over what to write next. She can hardly forbid Anthy to write to her family. It’s not like she’s Anthy fiancé (any more). Finally she scrawls, **Why?**

 

Anthy’s reply is typically vague. **Because he wrote to me** _._

 

 **You don’t have to write to him!** Utena chews on her lip.

 

**It’s only polite.**

**Who cares?! He’s a bastard!**

__

**He’s my brother.**

**He didn’t act like he was your brother.**

Anthy hesitates before writing her reply. **That doesn’t matter.**

**Yes it does!** Utena grips her pen so tightly it snaps. People around them are staring curiously but thankfully the lecturer continues droning on. Anthy hands Utena a new pen out of her pencil case. A snail escapes in the process to ooze across her desk. Utena scoops it up and puts it back in the case, used to animal adventures.

 

 **He’s still my brother** , writes Anthy and Utena fumes.

 

She wants to write back that Akio might hurt Anthy, that this isn’t a good idea, that he’s evil, and that family is as family does. Instead she sits there fuming, because it’s Anthy’s right to do whatever she wants, even if Utena doesn’t think it’s a good idea. Anthy has turned slightly so that Utena can’t see the words she oh-so carefully scripts. Utena folds her arms and looks like a thundercloud. She is in a filthy mood for the rest of the day.

 

* * *

 

After several months of writing Akio turns up on their doorstep, wearing his customary black and scarlet. Utena gapes and freezes in mid-situp as Anthy steps back from the doorway, ushering him in. Horrified Utena is on her feet in a moment, taking a defensive stance. Akio only nods to her politely before following Anthy to the couch. Tea is already on the table.

 

“Join us, Utena,” invites Anthy, and although her voice is smooth Utena can see uncertainty flickering in her eyes. She supposes Akio can too. Numbly she slides onto the other couch across from the siblings. It is surreal.

 

“Hello, Utena-kun,” says Akio, and his voice is older, harsher. He turns to his sister, politely accepting tea from her. “Anthy.”

 

She looks him in the eye. “Onii-sama.”

 

“I want you to come home,” he says, not waiting for Utena’s reply and not hiding his intentions. “You and I…we belong together, Anthy.”

 

The former rose bride looks down. Her lashes tremble a little and Utena knows she is fighting a mask into place. When she looks up she is appropriately blank, although her voice is gentle.

 

“I don’t think so.”

 

“Why not?” he says just like a little boy. “Because of her?” He flashes a half-derisive look at Utena, a look that reminds her of World’s End.

 

“Yes,” says Anthy, also not beating around the bush. “It’s what I want.”

 

“But is it what’s best?” asks Akio, and a tiny bit of desperation seeps through. “Is it what she wants? Don’t be so selfish.”

 

“Oho!” Utena interrupts, slamming her teacup down. “Like you, you mean. You’re the selfish one.”

 

This time his look is absolutely scathing. “Stay out of this,” he commands, “you’ve caused enough trouble.” He gathers up one of Anthy’s hands. “Please, sister, we’ve always had each other. I want you with me. I need you with me.”

 

“Why?!” snaps Utena, every hair bristling in outrage. “So you can hurt her, use her? Have someone to make your plaything as you try to regain your long lost power?”

 

“We’re family,” he reminds them, raising Anthy’s clasped hand to kiss it. She stares up at him and Utena wonders if she’s blushing beneath her dusky skin.

 

“Himemiya,” she pleads, suddenly desperate to break apart those matching green eyes. “Don’t listen to him. He’s a liar, you know that.”

 

Anthy turns her head to look at Utena and her eyes are very sad.

 

“He’s also family. And he wants me.”

 

Utena is aghast. Would Anthy really consider going with him? What if she does? What then?

 

“We’re family,” she says urgently, meaning it with all her heart and flushing because it isn’t something she wanted to admit (yet). “We’re what family really is.”

 

“Ha!” says Akio. “Sentimental garbage.”

 

Anthy’s eyes flicker, and her voice is very soft. “I thought we were enemies?”

 

“Huh?” says Akio, releasing Anthy’s hand in his confusion. They ignore him.

 

Sudden fury floods over Utena.

 

“Did you call him here deliberately?” she wants to know. “Just to get this to happen…to get me to say…is this one of your schemes?” She glares at Anthy, thinking that if she was closer she just might slap her for the first time ever.

 

“Just tell me,” says Anthy, ignoring the questions, “that you want to be my friend. That you want to know me, to have me come to you for help if something’s bothering me.” Her eyes burn into Utena’s. “Just tell me that, Utena-sama.”

 

“Fine,” growls Utena, and her heart is thudding so hard she can barely hear her own strangled words over it. “I want to be your friend. I’m only happy when we’re together. Even now, damn you. Damn you to hell, Himemiya Anthy.”

 

Anthy smiles. It’s a real smile, a sweet smile, the one that flashed across her face when she met Utena after the duel with Touga, when Utena told her not to bother with the rose bride nonsense.

 

Utena continues to glare. But her lips are twitching at the corners. Akio looks between them, handsome face slack with uncertainty.

 

“I never said this then,” says Anthy earnestly, “but I am your friend. It’s just that for the longest time…I didn’t know how to be.”

 

Hot tears come to Utena’s eyes and she blinks them back furiously. She refuses to cry in front of Akio. She refuses to rush to Anthy’s side and scoop her up into her arms, although every part of her longs to do so.

 

“Why Anthy,” says Akio rubbing his hands together. “That’s so sweet. So…unlike you.” He glances over at Utena, trying to regain control of the situation. “I hope you’re not falling for this. Once the rose bride, always the…”

 

He screams as Utena’s flung teacup breaks against his face. With a roar of outrage he is on his feet, scalding water soaking through his shirt. There is blood on his forehead and murder in his eyes. In a second he is over the table, apparently eager to make Utena pay for stealing his princehood. She is smiling even as his fist cracks against her cheekbone, exultant after all the empty actionless days of being nobody. She can feel her truest self surging to the fore. She can feel Anthy’s eyes all the way across the room, and knows that any concern in them is mostly for her. She feels like she’s waking up.

 

* * *

 

After the fight they sit on their bed while Anthy patches Utena up. Akio has gone home, grumbling that he’s going to sue if his arm is broken. Utena thinks that if that’s his big threat, this truly must be the real world.

 

Anthy hands Utena an icepack for her cheek, and gently peels up her sweater to look at her bruised ribs.

 

“Are you happy now?” Utena asks her pointedly, but she isn’t really angry. She shivers under Anthy’s lightly probing fingers.

 

“I don’t think they’re broken,” says Anthy, “and yes. Very happy.”

 

“You’ve been planning this,” accuses Utena, allowing it as Anthy starts to trace the sword scar.

 

“You know me,” says Anthy modestly, but her eyes are seductive. Utena shivers again. Yes…yes she does know Anthy, so much better than she used to. It was what she always wanted, and it’s what she’s got. She slowly realizes she’s pleased about it. Even more proud then when she got the basketball scholarship.

 

“It wasn’t easy,” she mutters. “You know, I’m still angry.” But she is finding it hard not to smile. Anthy’s fingers are ticklish.

 

“I’ve forgotten how to be angry,” says Anthy, “but I think it means someone cares. Yes?”

 

“Yes,” says Utena, giving in to instinct and dropping the icepack in favor of wrapping her arms around Anthy and burying her face in her neck. “Too much.”

 

“Just enough,” corrects Anthy. She holds Utena more tightly than Utena holds her. Her lips are soft against Utena’s cheek as she whispers what’s woken deep inside. “I love you.”

 

Utena doesn’t say it back. But she wants to. Given enough time she knows that Anthy will draw it out of her, like only she can.

 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> So far this has been my favourite Utena story to write ... it just flowed out of my fingertips onto the keyboard, and was born in one sitting. Usually writing is much harder for me! The hardest thing about it was keeping the writing in present tense (my only story to date in this tense); that choice just seemed to work for some mysterious reason.
> 
> Don't ask me what that mysterious reason could be. ;)
> 
> I must admit it was so fun to write a darker Utena. Usually I write her as a the foolish and innocent jock she seems-to-me to be in the anime/manga (she's more cynical in the movie). Darker Utena, that was a blast. I focused on trying to keep her believable: at Ohtori Academy she had been so darn 'good' ... however would she be if she had come to hate Anthy? Of course as the story proves, Utena could never hate Anthy deep-down 100%. She is more hurting and angry than hating, and it takes a witch's patience and cunning to drag this truth from her cupid lips.
> 
> OMG I just wrote cupid lips. Time for me wrap this up before it becomes purple prose or perhaps purple parody, as purple as Himemiya's lucious purple tresses that cover and caress her lucious buttox. ;p
> 
> I'm having a moment ... *fans self*
> 
> Back to this author's notes! *ahem* It was just as fun to write Anthy. I like to write/see Anthy as a fundamentally flawed character (not in a bad way, more in an intriguing way). Yes she has the possibility of goodness in her heart as we all do, and yes someone who loves and believes against all hope and reason may bring that out (as Utena does). Yet the truth about Anthy includes that she has done a host of evil things, and manipulated and hurt (and maybe even killed) many teenage 'duelists'. And that can be a hard and horrifying truth to hold onto.
> 
> Yes she did this for a reason, and yes we can lay a lot of blame at Akio's feet, but hey the hand that stabs the sword into someone's back is still the hand that stabs the sword. Anthy is fascinating in that she both IS and ISN'T responsible for the evil she's committed, in some sense she is evil and in another sense she's redeemable. On the scale of 0% is good and 100% is "OMFG she's evil!" let's say Anthy is at a perplexing 50%. Or was.
> 
> Makes you wonder about Akio/Dios, huh? Where's he on this cosmic scale? Makes me wonder anyway!
> 
> So writing Anthy as loving-toward-Utena and free-from-her-coffin yet still cunning, still the ancient too-experienced witch-bride-princess? that she maybe-is, yep, that made her voice fun.
> 
> Really I have to say that Utena and Anthy are both *amazing* characters in all their forms and shippings, and I love the dynamics of how they play off each other. I'm grateful for their creation. <3
> 
> The biblical allegories were probably my favourite scenes to write. I have a degree in Theology (despite no longer following a religion - I burst out of that shell and revolutionized my world!) and it's fulfilling to put the Eden myth to good effect. Utena has been quite carthartic for me in that regard.
> 
> I'd enjoy any replies to these thoughts and/or reviews for this story. I've gone back and re-read reviews years later and still found pleasure for my heart or guidance for my pen.
> 
> Thanks to all those who read and so re-create the world of Utena, together in our hearts.


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